


Of Snakes and Cats

by pdorkaa



Series: readers [9]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Drabble Collection, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Gen Work, Mild Kink, Smut, Unrelated fics, everything really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-01 16:52:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10194347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pdorkaa/pseuds/pdorkaa
Summary: A collection of eighteen unrelated reader-insert ficlets forCry_Kitty's eighteenth birthday.Is not related to any of the other works in this series (no, not even to Still Deadly and its sequel).





	1. The Chuunin Exams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cry_Kitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cry_Kitty/gifts).



> boy, isn't it an early birthday  
> i tried my best at a neutral reader character, but given that this is a very personal gift, i don't know if i've succeeded or not.  
> Cry_Kitty is gonna be the end of me with all those Orochimaru headcanons and plotbunnies.

With the final round of the chuunin exams coming up, Konoha was buzzing with excitement. You were already nervous - Orochimaru-sensei was doubling up on training and even so, you didn't feel like you could ace the individual matches. And the all-around high, competitive spirit didn't help your anxiety.

Your opponent was an Ame-nin of whom you've gotten a few glances at during the first and second rounds; tall, broad-shouldered, his face partly obscured by the Rain hitai-ate. His eyes, though, were the worst. They were yellow, yellowish, but not the sun-warmed amber your sensei's were - these were a piercing cold murky yellow with small pupils.

You shuddered. The match would be tomorrow, no reason to worry about it now, you reasoned as you pulled the covers over your head and found a comfortable position in your bed.

Your mind kept wandering, though. It kept conjuring images of you, receiving a green flak jacket, Orochimaru-sensei beaming down at you with a proud glint in his eyes. Not that the man ever smiled, but it was still a nice dream.

Another image, this time you were older, more experienced, and the two of you sat side-by-side after a particularly taxing battle, one of his arms draped over your shoulders...

Little by little, you dozed off, the pleasant thoughts lulling you to sleep.

* * *

You were breathing hard, a cut on your cheek blazing and bleeding, the blood dripping onto your collar. You glanced up to where you knew the jōnin-sensei were watching, and you found Orochimaru-sensei there, gripping the railing, his mouth pressed into an angry sneer.

Your shoulders sagged. You knew you were letting him down, you knew you weren't at your best, and you knew that you would be getting scolded later.

It didn't help at all that your opponent seemed to have disappeared somewhere. You could take a blow more or two, but not much more than that before collapsing - and you had little chakra left, enough for only a handful of small jutsu. Or one big one.

But that was the hardest, deciding what technique - or what strategic approach - to use against the Rain shinobi. He was a complete mystery to you, neither a close-range fighter, nor a long-range fighter; he preferred kenjutsu but then whipped out a few ninjutsu techniques; he was flickering in and out of view, never letting you take a breather, never letting you come up with a good retaliation.

Something seemed off. The edges of your vision seemed wobbly, somehow liquid, and--

Genjutsu, huh, you thought as you formed a seal.

"Kai!"

Suddenly, the arena around you straightened, and there was no cut on your cheeks. Looking up, you thought you saw a small, proud smile stretching your sensei's lips.

With the newfound energy, you ran at your opponent, who was left baffled by your release of the genjutsu, and suddenly seemed at a loss of what to do.

You knew better than to run at an enemy headfirst, though. You threw a handful of shuriken in his general direction while you changed course, and got behind his back with chakra-enhanced speed. He was obviously not a close-combat type, but you could never be careful enough in not assuming things at first glance. Orochimaru-sensei spent a great deal of time drilling that into your head. As such, you weren't surprised when the large Ame-nin turned with a sweep of his legs, trying to knock you off balance. You leapt back, throwing a kunai at him.

He didn't even have to dodge; the kunai missed by a few inches, and landed in the ground, its point embedded deeply.

He didn't notice the exploding tag attached to the bottom side of the kunai, though - he lurched forwards as the shock-wave hit him and the smoke enveloped his form.

You checked your chakra reserves, and decided that you were going all-in with your biggest jutsu. You carefully gathered a lot of heated chakra, and before the smoke could dissipate, you released it all in the Great Dragon Fire Technique.

"Katon: Gōryūka no Jutsu!"

A large, flaming dragon appeared as you exhaled the gathered air and chakra, then disappeared into the plume of lingering smoke.

"Suiton: Haran Banshō!"

You leapt back as you heard the water release jutsu, but you weren't fast enough, and water seemed to crash endlessly onto your head, your shoulders. You were soaked in a matter of seconds, you couldn't breathe after a minute and you were swept off your legs not shortly after.

Absently, you noticed the Ame-nin cancelling the jutsu, but you couldn't do much except lift your dripping head off the ground. You heard the proctor from somewhere far, far away, deeming the victory to your opponent.

Not surprising, considering how you were still struggling to sit up. You dared not to look up - you didn't want to see the disappointment on your sensei's face. Oh, it wouldn't be evident, as he usually refrained from conveying his feelings, but it would still be visible in the downturned corners of his mouth.

Suddenly, the poof of a shunshin sounded between you, and you found a shin and knee pushing into your back, helping you sit up.

"Daijobu desu ne" you heard Orochimaru-sensei said, his voice soft and silky. "You did good."

You gaped at the praise, twisting your neck to look back and up at him with big eyes widened in disbelief.

He had a hand on his waist, and wasn't looking directly at you, but you still could see a little glimmer of pride in his amber eyes.

"Thank you, sensei" you beamed happily at him.

"Tadashi" however, he continued, glancing at you, "it's not smart to show your opponents your biggest technique at the very first of your matches." He scolded you, but only a little, and his voice still held that softness. It felt like a praise.

"Hai, sensei."

"Let's go" he said. "I'm treating you to dango, deshi."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> daijobu desu ne - it's okay  
> tadashi - however  
> deshi - apprentice
> 
> i hope i'm using those correctly - if not, please let me know


	2. Jealousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd like to note, again, that these are unrelated things, except if explicitly stated otherwise.

You were practically seething with anger. You were hidden in the foliage of a tree, supposedly "watching and learning" from your shishō as he slithered through the small village's scarce defences.

Your shishō, however, wasn't so much slithering into the village as he was into the woman's pants in front him.

You left Otogakure very early in the morning, when the sky was still pale, and very few birds were awake, and now here you were, sitting in this damned tree. You were sitting there for hours. Hours, of which the majority was spent watching Orochimaru-sama chatting up some low-level kunoichi in a no-name ninja village.

But of course, you didn't have any right to be angry at him. He didn't know that he featured frequently in your dreams, and in increasingly indecent situations at that. He didn't know that when he entered the room, he pulled your eyes to him as a magnet; he didn't know that when he passed you, inhaling his sweet scent made your breath hitch and stop in your throat.

He didn't know any of that, and you - at most times - were thankful for it.

Now it wasn't one of those times, especially when he was whispering into the kunoichi's ear now. And said kunoichi was definitely blushing. You shrugged, trying to shake away the boiling feeling of repressed jealousy and anger, much to no avail.

When, at long last, Orochimaru-sama bid farewell to the still blushing stupid kunoichi, you let out the breath you didn't realise you were holding. He signalled you to drop down behind him and follow. You were going back home.

As you took your position to the left of him and a little behind, you could hear him chuckling.

"She will be a very valuable asset to us, that kunoichi" he said, still smiling. Seeing him smile was a rare feat, and the sight was turned sour at the thought that is was that no-name, no-face kunoichi who made him smile. "She possesses a very rare ability" he continued, seemingly oblivious to your turmoil.

But how could he not be? It's not like you told the man upfront that you wanted to do unspeakable things to that long, lean body of his. You sighed.

"You seem to be in a sour mood" he said, glancing at you sideways, the bright midday sun illuminating the strands of his black hair.

"I'm just sore is all" you mumbled, carefully looking everywhere but at him. "Why is she so important?" The question just bubbled out of your throat, without any of your consent. You stopped dead in your tracks, fearing the inevitable retaliation from your shishō for the insubordination.

The retaliation never came, though, only a simple inquiry. The tone with which it was delivered was, on the other hand, was everything but simple. It carried undertones of amusement, but also something malicious. Something that made you quiver in the very spot you were standing on.

"Are you jealous of her, Yaya-chan?" He even tilted his head to one side.

"I... I'm not... shishō, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..." you were stammering and blushing like a schoolgirl. Absolutely not fit for one of the Densetsu no Sannin's deshi. He will never let you live this down, you knew.

"Ne, Yaya-chan," he stepped closer to you, tilting your chin up with a finger, his other hand absent-mindedly playing with a strand of your hair. Your breath caught in your throat, and, if possible, you felt your face get even redder than before. "No need to be jealous" he continued, looking into your eyes. "I'll never have a more talented deshi than you."

And in a moment he was gone, continuing down the road, oblivious to the fact that you were frozen to the spot, desires and fears chasing each other inside you.

You took a moment to clear your head - then, of course, you followed him back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shishō - master (almost as a sensei, only more badass)  
> also, sorry for the direct addressing of the reader. as i told y'all, it's more personal - try to ignore the Yaya-chan all the way, please. if you don't like to be called Yaya-chan, that is. (who wouldn't, honestly?)


	3. Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> modern!AU because why not?  
> (also morningafter!AU because i'm a sucker for huge clichés.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and oops, this accidentally turned smutty?  
>  also, it's OOC, which i'm vaguely sorry for.

You groaned as you felt the warm weight that was beside you just a moment ago disappear. The mattress dipped as the owner of said weight sat up, and you cracked an eye open to see what was going on. The warm sunlight was touching down on the floor beside heaps of discarded clothing, and tousled black hair was illuminated with golden streaks in front of you.

"You're leaving?" You asked Orochimaru, who, by all accounts, seemed a tad startled by your question. An unreadable emotion flickered over his face, before his expression settled into a calm - if solemn - one.

"Yes" he answered finally. You pushed yourself up onto your elbows - the covers slid off your chest, exposing your breasts, and his expression changed yet again, now into one with an underlying tone of feral want. "I'm leaving" he reaffirmed, but it was more aimed at himself than you. He was late with it, though, because your arms and legs have already found their way around his waist and neck, pulling him back into the bed with you. He was resisting, but only half-heartedly, and picked up his phone to see if anyone was missing him.

(Considering that it was the ass-crack of dawn, it was not surprising that no one had even left a message yet, even if he was the leader of the new research you'd heard him mention yesterday, between moans and sighs and kisses.)

Seeing as no one needed him at the moment, you decided to claim him as yours for the time being, and toppled you both over, so that now you were on your sides. His long, lean back was sprawling for miles in front of you, and you couldn't help but trail kisses, then tongue, then teeth down his spine. He arced into your touch, and when you bit his neck, only to ease the sudden pain with a kiss, he twisted in your arms, facing you. He framed your face with both his hands, looking you in the eye for a moment before diving in for a long, languid kiss. It started innocently enough, but soon, his tongue found its way into your mouth, soon, the breaths in-between turned to gasps, and soon, you were on your back, panting as he sucked in your lower lip before heading lower, scattering tentative kisses across your neck, your chest, your sides, your stomach. He reached up with both his hands, smoothing his marks on your sides as he reached upward to cup your breasts and gently toy with your nipples. His mouth, though, was constantly wandering lower and lower, and you couldn't hold back a gasp when it touched against your clitoris, parting your labia gently.

He gazed up, something akin to satisfaction and mischief glimmering in his eyes, but he said nothing, and continued.

It was really getting embarrassing how fast you turned into a pleading, writhing mess under his touch. Other times he'd made a remark or two, but now - he remained silent. This was different, and you both seemed to sense it, though neither of you said anything, not wanting to break the spell. You chased those thoughts away; you could think about them after, after this has ended, after the warm, content feeling has already settled and passed, and he too, closed the door behind him, but not now.

You were so lost in the sensations that you have barely noticed that he reached out, rolled on a condom and returned - only when he thrust into you, deep and slow, only to immediately pull out and dive back again. You gasped and hitched your legs up, linking your ankles behind his waist to give him more room. He groaned, a strange, muted sound, and he let his head fall into the space between your shoulders and neck, his silken hair tumbling over his shoulders, his hot breath warming your skin.

"Turn around" he urged, winding his fingers into your hair and tugging a little, his voice hoarse and deep, his eyes lit up with hunger. He pulled out, and didn't wait for you to fully turn; he grabbed onto your hips, falling short of a grip that could bruise but only just. He thrust back in, setting a pace that was both glorious and cruel, going deeper still, and soon enough, you were thrusting backwards too, meeting him in the middle, stilted gasps and sweet nothings and curse-words flowing from your mouth, tumbling off your lips in equal measure. His hand, his fingers found their way into your hair again, pulling back your head and his mouth met your shoulder blade, leaving a searing bite mark covered with a kiss.

"Oro...chi-- Orochimaru, I'm close" you breathed out, already feeling the white-hot waves of pleasure coiling in your abdomen. He released your hair, only to touch his fingers to our clitoris, teasing, but nowhere near firm enough, while his other hand steadied on your hips, pulling them back with more and more force. You moaned as you felt his hardness inside you twitch, and his last final thrusts were angled for your sweet spot, and it became all too much - you came then, vision darkening, every fiber in your body arching and every muscle trembling.

You only vaguely realised that he'd pulled out and was now wrapping the used condom into a tissue. You rolled onto your back, panting heavily, sweat shimmering on your skin, and waited for him to return.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your still-tender clitoris, before slithering up your body to take your mouth in a kiss. This, however, lacked the burning need from before; it was slow, it was lazy and content, and lasted a long while before you needed to come up for air. He was leaning on one elbow, his legs tangled with yours, his hair falling over the both of you.

"I really should leave now" he said, even as he trailed one pale, long-fingered hand down between your breasts and stomach.

You only smiled and pulled his head down to kiss him again.


	4. After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is set in that awful filler arc after the war where everyone's about Naruto and Hinata's wedding, and Yamato and ???the official Konoha mascot??? follow Orochimaru around all the time.

It was weird, at first. Everyone was looking, no, staring, at the prodigy-turned-traitor when he first arrived back into the village. You couldn't blame them; you yourself were wary at Orochimaru first. Everyone knew he couldn't be trusted.

But that was... Before.

Soon, his presence became something mundane, as the shinobi - and the villagers - got used to him. Of course, there were sideway glances, but nothing more. He was interacting with the villagers, and slowly, he became one of Konoha's inhabitants again. You haven't seen much of him, not really, but your wariness had dissipated.

That, too, was before.

He wasn't listed as an active shinobi, naturally. Everyone knew of his prowess, yes; everyone knew of his treachery and betrayal, too. Should a dire situation arise, no one could be quite sure which side he'd fall on, and for that, he couldn't be registered. If he was, really, no shinobi would have trusted him with their backs on a mission, but that was okay. You suspected that Orochimaru wasn't feeling bitterness over this - of all people, he should know best the phenomenon of cause and effect.

But this all, as stated, was before. You turned onto your back in your bed, and turned your head a little more to see the sleeping figure next to you.

It was entirely unexpected, this thing between you two. It started with tentative glances, then awkward, stilted small talk; a brush of fingers across your lower arm. He too, was unexpected: a sweet man buried under all the hurt and all the twisted imagery of the never-ending life and knowledge of all sorts. A sweet, if somewhat awkward man, his care, compassion and little, ebbing flames of love just awakened.

His reclaimed life must have hurted too, it must hurt to live in a Konoha he had once tried to destroy. The lessening, but ever-present glances must have hurted. Anko, sweet, twisted, cackling Anko, and the hatred that spoke from her eyes must have hurt the most, and yet, and yet, his sweetest inner emotions were coming to life nonetheless.

Oh, there were glances of his past, of course: sometimes in the downturned frown he wore, sometimes in the narrowing of his eyes, sometimes in the slow, languid grin that left no doubt of ill intents.

But they were getting fewer and farther in-between, and ultimately, that was what mattered.

A clank of wood sounded from your kitchen, and you were not startled by the sound, not anymore. This was something that would likely never go away - Yamato, of all people, one of Orochimaru's experiments, another dark smudge on his oast, was the one to follow him around; a shadow, not butting into his - now your - life, but still intrusive.

Something to live with.

You turned to snuggle closer to Orochimaru and inhaled his scent. The moonlight shone into the room between the half-drew curtains, bringing a sense of peace.

It was going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly idk why i'm fixating on bed scenes  
> for that matter, idk anything. ah.


	5. Silence I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> spy!AU, part I of III.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> loosely based on real life events, with the emphasis on 'loosely'.  
> also, i'm usually rabidly against the switching of family and given names, i.e. Naruto Uzumaki, but, seeing as we're currently in Europe, i think it's justified.

You yawned and sighed as you sunk lower into the seat, and placed your chin into your palm, looking out to the trees and meadows passing by. The train ride was taking too long - then, of course, you were the one who signed up for the trans-European backpacking travel, so you had nothing to complain about. Europe was nice and interesting, and you were only in the second month of your three-month travel, so there must've been other adventures ahead, waiting for you.

Still. Sitting for six hours on a train wasn't the most interesting part.

You peered overhead, seeing your luggage rattle precariously close to the edge of the luggage rack, and you stood up to push it back into place. You settled back into your seat with a sigh, and before you knew it, the rhythmical rattle of the train lulled you into sleep.

A tapping sound woke you. It came from the seat across, periodically, but there wasn't any rhythm to it - few short ones, few long ones, mixed to a point where it was infuriating. You peeled one eye open to see, and there it was, a man in front of you, tapping his shiny black shoes on the floor.

Just as you were about to open your mouth and kindly ask him to stop, he changed his position, propping up one leg over the other knee, and you, satisfied, closed your eyes again.

Then it started again, only this time it came from your right. You turned your head to see another man, dressed similarly in a suit, tapping his foot. Dammit. You debated asking him to stop, but he, too, stopped on his own shortly.

And then - you couldn't believe it. These men were taking turns tapping the floor, and it's just about your luck to have ended up in the same seats with them. You sighed, inwardly, because your mother has taught you good manners, and closed your eyes decisively. They had nothing on the stinking hippie stoner guy from two days ago, after all.

However, no matter how hard you tried, sleep eluded you, and you resigned to your fate: you kept awake, listening to the infuriating tapping, and watching the ladscapes rushing by.

Of course, trees and skies yield only so much entertainment, and shortly, you found yourself watching the two men. The one across you had long, silky black hair, tied up in a loose tail at his nape, and he was ghastly pale. He was also wearing... Purple eyeliner? It looked... Strange, but it certainly was a good look on him. His black suit was immaculate, completed with an amber tie that complemented his eyes beautifully.

The man next to you was dressed similarly, albeit his suit was a few shades lighter, a nice, creamy shade of dark grey, and his tie was a deep burgundy. He was also wearing glasses, and his hair was grey, even though he didn't seem older than the other man.

The train rolled into a station - not yours, seeing as it was still some three hours away - and the man next to you stood up, quoetly said goodbye (as was custom in Europe, apparently), and, gathering his suitcase, got off. In the narrow aisle, you could see him meeting someone; a man with long black hair and a strange reddish glint in his eyes greeted him, and you could see as he took the offered hand after a moment of stiff hesitation.

The man across you was watching the same encounter, and even though his body did not betray any emotion, you somehow got the sense that he was displeased with this turn of events. But the other two got off, others boarded the train, and you found yourself with new seatmates.

You found that you couldn't help but stare at the black-haired man across. He was... Beautiful, for lack of a better word. His skin looked so smooth, his eyes were a colour you've never seen before, a sort of golden, and his hair seemed so soft to the touch... Ah, you loved this continent.

But sadly, just as you mustered up the courage to start up some small talk, he stood up, brushed a hand across his dress pants, buttoned up his jacket and, gathering his suitcase, stepped off the train. You didn't even notice that the train arrived to the next station, and there went your chance at pale, pretty and serious, threading his way between swarms of people waiting to board.

You raked a hand across your hair, and cursed inwardly. It was just about your luck, really.

A group of loud teenagers sat themselves down, managing to squeeze onto the seats that were too small for their numbers. It was quite a feat, seeing as there was a rather chubby guy, who was currently eating crisps loudly, and a boisterous blond, who gesticulated widely, oblivious to anyone or anything he knocked down or over. And this was in addition to a black-haired guy who looked just about done with the entire situation, and a girl with pretty green eyes and a bob dyed light pastel pink. Another girl with long, pale-blonde locks and huge blue eyes sat herself down next to the guy already sitting next to you, and tried to start up a conversation, but to her - and your - surprise, he turned to you, ignoring the blonde, and grabbed your forearm.

"You need to trust me. Come with me."

And, without further ado, he yanked you out of your seat, down the aisle, and locked the toilet door, pressing you into the wall, before you could so much as protest.

"Excuse me?" You managed to get out weakly.

"You need to trust me. I'm Sasuke Uchiha. There were two men sitting with you before, correct?"

"Y-yes" you said. What?

"You need to listen to me very closely. They were agents of a very dangerous organisation. You are an eyewitness, and this places you in danger. Do you have a phone?"

"In my luggage." What? Spies? Agents? You watched enough shitty TV series and movies to know where this was going. The entire situation felt surreal, to the point where you weren't sure if it has really happened.

"That's good." He looked out the small window. Only now did you notice that he had a little accent, a sort of lilting, a melody. You couldn't place it, but it was likely not the most important detail right now.

The train slowed, and he unlocked the door, and practically yanked you off the train, at the very first moment after the doors slid open.

You didn't even have time to mourn your now-lost luggage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> brownie points to anyone who finds allllll the characters i couldn't help but stuff in there!


End file.
